New Year's Eve 2016

click for film source

*Wo*, got hit from the Bermuda Triangle yesterday.

I've had so many hits from searches for Rick Lagina again lately from so many weird places that I am sworn to get all caught up again on Curse of Oak Island first thing after everyone else gets back into routine after New Year's. Concern about both his sex life and especially his demise have quintipled again, and I wanna see why. Apparently, someone in the Mayberry made for TV movie set area has concern about it as well.

Yesterday was day 2 on Bunny's tonsillectomy, so the suckage suckededed really bad. But I think she's about past that part now and will probably be up well into 2021 tonight.

Also yesterday I finally got the last of the kitchen flipping done. My mobile office of 4 1/2 years is no longer a campsite. The long term planning and execution around this took about 2 months, but it's a solid idea. I'll skip details (aspienado wants to include lengthy details, Pinky says no) and just say I wish I'd thought of this way sooner. Genius in slo-mo, as it were.

The only drawback is that @bonenado and I can now see each other across the house into other rooms as we are both on the internet, so I'm already tossing jokes out about making cubicles. It's weirding us out that we've lost our only privacy. This house has no hallways. To be able to sit somewhere in this house without looking up and seeing someone looking at you involves careful angle planning.

I've already lost my first resolution pound. GO ME!!! Yeah, not sure how, I ate ice cream last night. This year's motto is GO BIG OR FACEPLANT, so I'm shooting for the legendary 50 pounds thing. I did it in 2011 in only 4 months. What the hell, right? I've had 20 creep back on since then, and Pinky is putting a foot down and saying ohHELLno, so I guess we'll be seeing who's really the boss of me. We haven't really test driven this new emotionally healthy integrated Pinky personality into the wilds of menu planning yet, so this might get interesting.

My other big resolution (I made only two real ones) is to stop the f*@#G whining and get published, because several friends have been publishing all around me banging my head against the minecraft wall, and another year of that will have me self destructing onto a comedy stage or something.

I just told @bonenado not to throw a protective phone bag away because he's ruined me being the big recycler that holds stuff back in case we wanna sell it. I'm like are you crazy, have you looked up phone carry bags? I actually bought one the year we flew to Houston. It was ridiculously expensive. So he asked about starting an Amazon shop, I said I have no advice, just go do it because I either don't have the time or I'll own it and be the boss and you'll cry. He walked off muttering he wouldn't *cry*, he'd just hate me. I called out across our lengthy office space that if he's successful, I'll toss lots of stuff at him to sell. He said he'll be setting up a cubicle.

So we were out yesterday running around the state and stopped in at Osceola Cheese (picked up an aged swiss, mmmm), and it about knocked me over hearing a young hipster dad asking his 7 year old daughter if she preferred the apple wood smoked aged gruyere or the hickory smoked goat gouda. There's hope for Missouri yet. And she picked the gruyere, correctly enunciating the entire phrase back to her dad. *wow* I expect great things from that kid.

Seriously, they had just about everything except buffalo and donkey cheeses.

Hm. Just discovered I don't have enough eggs to whip up a yummy coconut cream pie for @bonenado. Deep regret reigns over us, for now we must venture forth again. Today is a big cooking day so I won't hafta cook again the rest of the long weekend. Queued in fridge is vension burger for meatloaf and chicken for BBQ, plus we've got chips for cheese and salsa dips and decided to blow the year out with ice cream before we really get serial about the last big challenge on the carb cutting thingy. Ice cream is our kryptonite.

Not sure if I'll be staying up for any kind of ball drop, but I had my party yesterday, and I'm good to go for 2017. Egads, I look like I have no hair at all... It's halfway down to my shoulder blades again and wildly staticky, so I tied it up and stuck a sock in its mouth like a big bad boss. I look like aspienado on drugs. Definitely not demure.

This is me shooting into 2017 like.



theme, focus, execution playlist

leveling up on junkie

My morning so far, lol.

Ok, yesterday was a challenge. I put someone I love through the same stuff I put tech support through, so I'm still coming off that feeling facepalmy and wtf-ish, because even though I know I'm like this, I still can't believe how truly difficult it is to talk through a tech issue without meltdowns. I had to walk off twice. I don't know what it is about tech talk, but I get caught in logic loops over word definitions and it takes a truckload of trust to get me to push a single button. I'm like loading a spooked horse onto a trailer, srsly.

Basically, my forge crashed and I have no MoCreatures until I get that reloaded. I can still play singleplayer and realm, just not multiplayer. In order to figure out if I was clear of the old stuff I was trying to wipe out, I had to keep creating new worlds to see if they'd load properly (they didn't), and I finally discovered another copy of all the things in a completely different area. Thanx, Windows 10, very thorough of you, and I'm keen on the phrase 'in triplicate', so I'll call that fun instead of a real drag. Anyway, since I switched back to regular profile, I can open all those new worlds just fine, and this is from a super flat one I named 'super stupid'. I think that was the seed I put in and everything. (I seeded another one called 'omgthissux' that turned out pretty awesome, in case you want to try that, but this pic is from 'super stupid'.)

Ok, because I piddled around in there yesterday while I was blowing off all that aspienado meltdown steam, I finally learned to turn gardens into greenhouses. There is no other way to stop the slimes from destroying the gardens. I tried triple fencing, loading up blocks with anything opaque, didn't matter, I got everything from rabbit size to giant monster size slime blocks bouncing around killing all the veg and wheat. Yes, I know, I made nearly 20 golems, and those idiots, while useful to some extent, tend to congregate like coworkers on the clock and waste time hanging out together in aisles where they think no one will see them, and I even caught two different groups of them just twirling away, showing each other their dance moves while slimes bounced all around them.

Anyway, if you play flat and wanna save your gardens, I KNOW HOW NOW. It's simple and quick and genius, at least that I know of so far. I tried to lure a slime my way and it hasn't worked yet. If worse comes to worse, I'll stick a golem in my greenhouse.


:edit: I just found this, you can kill ALL SLIMES super fast if you paste this in /kill @e[type=Slime] BUT you have to do it over and over because the large slime die and leave lots of little slimes for several generations. Also, it doesn't stop them spawning again, just gives you a very quick breather if you're in the middle of something. You're welcome.

So last week I was thinking about talking to my doctor about an opiate burst for really rough weeks. After a bit of reading I've decided that would be bad, based on my obvious protracted withdrawal response to the morphine shot I got the week before. I'll just leave my reading trail here for others who might be dealing with opiate addictions and withdrawals. I've talked about addiction history, starting from birth, and my long nightmare with sanctioned meds, so no need to drag all that out again.

Long Term Effects of Opiate Use
How to Isolate and Treat Protracted Withdrawal Symptoms
Post Acute Withdrawal (PAW)
Post-Acute Withdrawal Symptoms- Relapse Prevention Strategies
Our Brain on Opiates (The Broken Brain)

Yeah, I really can't go back there. I'm only 3 years out from cleaning off 2 decades of vicodin, and they're saying some long-time users experience protracted withdrawal symptoms off that stuff for 10 years. This is my spoonie life. On top of all the hard stuff I deal with anyway, on top of all that filtering through an aspienado brain, I must also keep dealing with the fact that I'm an addict and the wrong medications (which is most of them) will only make my life worse again. To say that I've had a rough spring really is putting it mildly, but the last thing I want to do is drag myself down talking about the junky crap I'm distracting myself from, right?

I'm still a useful human being. I'm still choosing physical and psychological health over self pity. I still believe kindness is logical, and that I'm here to make things better for other people.

I also need to get some laundry and dishes done now. Laterz.

life as a Sim- this is all just a dream in a program

(This post turned out to be a sort of thought progression. I highly recommend daily blogging as a form of journaling. I've been doing it for years. It's nice to go back and be able to see where one stalls out or makes progress.)

Ok, so going back to bed was a mistake. =_+ Talk about identity issues.

So I was in a different house. Not unusual for a dream. I was me. My sister was herself. I rarely dream about her, but this is still not unusual. It was morning, she was up getting breakfast, I was still in bed. Still cool. Now let's skip everything else in my life, but just know that she and I last lived in the same house when she was 16.

Me and her. She was getting ready to go to school, I went back to bed after my coffee (which I did this morning, went back to bed after my coffee). I could hear her getting breakfast, no big deal, I was nearly back asleep. I suddenly wondered why she hadn't asked me if she could drive my car to school instead of ride the bus. (Scott drove my car in to work this morning because of the weather.) I got up to ask her if she wanted to take my car. Then I stopped and wondered why she didn't have her own car. Ah, weird dream logic, here we go.

So here comes the weird math. I started demanding to know why she didn't have her own car yet (neither one of us had cars at that age), because I knew I was at least ten years older than her because my kid was at least ten years old by now and I didn't have her until after I graduated, and I knew I graduated at 17. So 17+10=27 (I can do math in this dream, yay!), so I had to be at least 27 years old, so why didn't my sister have a car???

I wonder if that's what it's like when people wake up from comas. It was like everything in my life between now and high school had been erased, except for knowing I had a child (who now has her own child, actually). The dream abruptly ended when I found the keys. (I had left my keys out on the table for Scott this morning.) So I'm back up now feeling more irritated than rested.

I can't help feeling this little dream somehow came about in part from looking stuff like this up last night. No, that's not why I said I could do math in this dream. I usually can't even dial a phone number straight in my dreams, so I was really surprised when I woke up and thought "Wow, I actually did real math in that dream."

I might have been 27 when I met one of the authors of that paper I just linked. If you knew what that meant at all and what I went through yesterday, this dream would suddenly have a whole new world of meaning. Let's put some puzzle pieces together. Dreams are fun!

Part of my medical testing this week is to make sure I don't have anything ovarian related causing this really spiky weird pain. I have a solid family history of cancer and cysts galore. Ovarian cysts can cause a variety of crazy pains as swelling presses organs and nerves or ovaries get pushed around and twist things up. I'd already had a trans-vag ultrasound, but before I began the MRI yesterday, my tech wanted to make double sure I wasn't pregnant. Since my nerves go off so bad during MRIs, I spent a few minutes waiting for the result contemplating how suddenly joyful I felt that I could be pregnant, because it would mean I could leave without having the MRI. On the other hand, since I'm this old and was ablated about 18 months ago, there is no way this pregnancy could be allowed without going into full hysterectomy, even in a Catholic hospital. (I'm not Catholic, but Mercy is my fave medical system.)

I've written elsewhere about the double hormone crash supervised by three doctors and a psychologist that sent me spiraling through feeling 'crazy' for a couple of months several years ago and I couldn't tell what was 'real'. During that time I (as menopausal women often do, I'm told) my walls broke down around a really old secret that my psychologist validated was a forced abortion akin to a rape, or reverse rape. Even though I was in a clinic, I woke up from full sedation to find myself tied down and unable to get them to stop. I realize as I'm writing this that I have ever since been terrified of sedation, and MRIs apparently send me round a looney bin.

This is the first time I've ever been able to tie my intense claustrophobia during medical procedures to anything solid. I think I had subconsciously started to figure it out when that tech sprung a surprise pregnancy test on me before the MRI, and then last night out of the blue I started looking up this math stuff, and now that dream this morning.

27 is my magic number. It's the age I was before everything went wrong, when magic still sparkled and I was just starting to figure out my aspie way through social relationships. All my brain studying, all that left vs right, all that Spock vs SpongeBob, all that mysterious stuff in my head I am just now learning to put words to- how different would life have been if I'd been able to tell a topologist back then I can see all of that in my head since I was a child? I just don't know how to get it out. Remember how thrilled I was about finding other people obsessed with polychorons? I can only imagine how my life would have turned out if I could have shared that kind of stuff with my parents growing up. "I see weird shapes when I close my eyes, like a kaleidoscope." Yeah, they already thought I was plenty weird.

I'm trying to show you a spidroball but every time I paste the address it auto downloads, so here. It came from this page.

I'm ok. Well, at least emotionally. I don't know the test results yet. It has always taken me a very long time to process how I feel because of my Asperger's, so sometimes old stuff still pops up. Today I'm rather elated that I can finally nail this horrible claustrophobia to something real. Maybe I'll call my psychologist back up (he cut me loose last summer after 7 years) and see if this is something I can move forward on now. I would very much like to keep reducing my anxiety levels without meds. I've been medicated more than I'm comfortable with this week.

I love it when stuff clicks into place. Now it's time to GET TO WORK! Kinda behind in both my house and internet chores because of all the extra running this week. Yep, this is still my theme song. 

hell's no place for sleeping

Got another one about to break my all-time scare record, albeit in a slower and steadier pace, which is the kind of traffic I really like to see. I admit I've coddled a little trepidation about some of the honesty I'll be throwing at you guys soon, so it's comforting to see the weird stuff become the most popular.

This movie is for a dear lady who seems to dance with the dark patches- What happens when Death is audited? The book might be a little easier for Americans who are easily bored with British intellectual humor that enjoys developing itself without explosions, something I had to learn to adapt to myself *cough* but this literary joy is totally worth it in either form.


And these for for the toughest chick I know besides me for whom 'frivolity' could entail extreme distraction in the same venue as extreme sports. Not sure how else to throw out a little thank you for letting me dump the gritty stuff all over her nice clean messaging.


I am currently grinding my life through a 90 degree turn and setting up all kinds of scheduling. This is my personal nonstop theme song while I'm dealing with stuff- have probably run it a hundred times in the last 24 hours, kinda like jacking youtube codeine into my aspie brain or something.

If I recluse I'll probably be writing like a bat outa hell and ignoring notifications, but my severe lack of phone twitter is already numbing us all up anyway, so no probs there.